La Lune ne Garde Aucune Rancune
by Confetti01
Summary: Meet Evan Rosings. Smart, beautiful, a little out of the ordinary and a total dreamer. After a unpredicted visit from a stranger, a set of events she could never have even dreamed up are set in motion. And all she wanted was a cup of tea...
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

The lights were dimmed in the open apartment. Nothing but the moonlight worked to illuminate the loft, giving it an eerie glow. Scattered across the polished concrete floor were hundreds of blue prints. All of them, though none looked alike nor were similar in anyway, were impossible mazes that only the creator could ever really understand but left an audience intrigued. In the middle of all the commotion lied the form of a sleeping girl, the subtle moonlight gave her an angelic glow that haunted the room.

Ugh. If only.

I looked up at my alarm clock. The bright red, glaring, annoying, intrusive numbers showed it was still only 3.20 in the am. I still had another 5 and a half hours before I had to be at the university. What a joke. It was painfully obvious that I was not going to get any more sleep on this chilly evening. I pushed back my covers with a huff and walked out of my room and into the open plan of my loft apartment.

Creepily enough the moon really was shining through the enormous barred window and seemed to spotlight my latest blue prints. Shaking off the weird tingling feeling I walked over to the kitchen and put the kettle on. The abnormally loud gurgling and whistling was comforting and filled in the eerie silence that had settled over the space. After a while I became bored and the kettle blended into the background, bringing back the unsettling feeling of being totally _alone_.

I walked over to the radio and set it on an old school French station. I could picture movie stars walking through manicured parks and singers filming video clips in seedy bars, effectively taking my mind off of being alone. Of course, that thought brought being alone to the forefront of my mind once again. It seemed contradictory that being alone was becoming a touchy subject for me considering I was a self appointed loner.

Sure, I had friends at the university. Okay, they were more like acquaintances. On the same level as my uncle's weekly bird and how well I became acquainted with them. That was pretty accurate. Especially as I only saw him once every year or so, now that I lived in Paris.

Absent mindedly I poured myself a cup of tea and rekindle the fire. Soon enough, I was rugged up in a blanket, on my favourite arm chair, in front of the fire with a cup of cha and the radio. Such is life. This of course means it had to end. And rather abruptly if we were keeping with my current track record. I could hear noises in the hall way. It sounded like angry shouting but who knows? Maybe they were reunited lovers? Trust me, it has happened before. Another tale for another time, that one is.

I sat up as straight as a pole as I waited for the inevitable interruption. Then surprise, surprise…

Silence.

Okay. That wasn't a normal occurrence. I snuggled deeper into my couch and hugged my mug closer to my chest as I tried to warm myself up and calm the bemused thoughts in my head. It was the bloody third world war in there, I tell you.

_BANG!_

"Arghhhh!"

Unfortunately the scream was me. Almost as unfortunately as I was now donning my latest accessories: tea leaves and Joe.

I stood up from my arm chair, totally raging mind you, and let the last dribbles of tea run off my jumper and scarf. I stormed to the door where the incessant banging had now picked up to a minor marching band. Yanking the door open I took a nice deep breath. Not to calm myself. I needed a good two lung fulls of air if I was going to effectively scare the bastard off, who ever they ended up being. I had a sneaking suspicion it was the crazy old lady who lived the floor under. She was always trying to sell me kittens and bird seed and after every time she had been within a ten foot radius of my door I could just feel the fleas on me.

"Mrs Magnolia, I don't know how many times I have to remind you, im allergic to cats and will not be purchasing one any time-" I cut myself off as I noticed that the person in front of me was in fact not the dreaded Magnolia but a rather handsome young prince.

Pfft. I wish. But he was extremely handsome. I guess the prince part would remain in my dreams. He looked kinda old though.

"-soon," I finished lamely, trying my best to ignore my thoughts which were rapidly turning rather racy. Then I had to try and control the wink and pervy smile that were threatening to escape.

I took a cautious step back and tried to subtly close the door in his face but he caught it with his hand and from the look on his face he wasn't going to leave until he had said his part.

"Im sorry to disrupt you so late at night-"

"Early in the morning you mean," I injected with a hearty glare. He raised an eyebrow and looked at me like I was a petulant child.

"Well, you appear to have already been awake so I don't believe I am too in the wrong," he quipped. I took a shocked step back, realising too late that it looked like an invitation to come inside, which he did of course. As he walked passed he made a note of eyeing the tea stain on my shirt and smirking. What. A. prick.

"May I enquire as to why you are here? And why you are in my house? And… why are snooping through my stuff?" I exclaimed as I noticed he directed himself towards the blueprints I had left on the floor. In his defence he hadn't been going for them originally, they just caught his eye. But if anyone asked me I would deny everything. That's a promise.

"These are incredible," he breathed as he scanned over each individual maze like structure I had created on the paper.

"Um, thankyou," I said slowly, unsure of how to react to this stranger.

_Stranger._

The word resonated through my mind and my senses came flying back to me like a stretched rubber band. This _stranger_, as in this person I had never met before in my _life_, was in _my_ apartment, going through _my_ personal belongings, and he seemed to think it was _okay_? Uhuh, not okay. And I was just about to call him a perfect stranger. Shame.

"Hold up, buddy," another eyebrow raised as he lifted his head to look at me, "I don't know _who_ you think you are but I certainly have no idea. And yet you are here in _my house_ and going through _my things_ like it is perfectly normal? And you made me spill my tea!"

He smirked and put the prints back on the floor, before stretching up to his full height. He was a lot taller than I had initially thought, that's for sure.

"I apologize. My name is Dominic Cobb," he stuck his hand out shake but I just took a step backwards and frowned. This, of course, didn't deter him in the slightest. "I actually was planning on doing all this before you let me in."

I looked at him blankly. "I didn't let you in. I stepped backwards and you assumed I was giving you the go ahead," I deadpanned.

He had the decency to look slightly abashed. "I know, but if I had any chance of this working then I was going to have take the risk."

After that sentence all I could think was guns, handcuffs and being robbed blind. I ran to the front door and locked it, including the dead bolt before checking through the key hole for anybody outside.

It was all clear.

Then I realised that even if he had or accomplices or was flying solo, I had just locked him inside my house with me still in there as well. I turned around and looked at him. He was wearing the most confused expression, I almost considered it cute.

Then he reached inside his jacket.

And I ran.

Of course the door behind me was locked. After running into it and falling flat in a daze I decided that my best cause of action was teleportation. Now all I had to do was figure out the physics of time travel and teleportation before defying multiple laws of nature to land out side the blasted door.

Apparently my inner scheming hadn't been quite as inner as I felt myself be picked up. "You have an over active imagination," he stated plainly.

I sighed. "Think of my poor parents," I muttered.

"Anyway, I wanted to ask if you had a spare room I could stay in tonight," he inquired as he followed me to my arm chair. "I will pay you and everything and I will be gone by 9 in the morning."

As I snuggled deeper than usual into my snugglepot I pondered over his offer. I could use a little extra dough and the company would eradicate the eerie lonely creepy feeling I had tonight.

"Deal," I said rather reluctantly, ignoring the fact that my rational conscious was doing the cha-cha in celebration. Damn voice.

A brilliant smile lit up his face and I could help but think it made him look rather handsome. After a while we were engulfed in one of those really uncomfortable awkward warning I jumped up, grabbed some sheets from a hidden cupboard and proceeded to remake my bed. Cobb followed me but remained in the door way as I worked.

"So Cobb," I enquired, "what brings you to my apartment this fine chilly morning?"

His grin slowly diminished until a light frown creased hi forehead and eyes. "My wife and I had and argument."

Thank god my back was to him as he spoke that horrid sentence. I could feel the glare meld to my face as I picture voodoo dolls and multiple pins involving previously mentioned spouse. My only reply was, "oh?"

"Yeah," he sighed resignedly. "She's pregnant-" curse her to the fiery pits of Hades "-and she is insisting she come on an upcoming business venture. I told her it was too dangerous and would harm the baby but she is adamant."

I turned back to face him, pushing all homicidal thoughts to a secluded box in the back of my brain for later examination and noticed the cautious look on his face.

"And if I was to enquire about your line of work?" I suggested slowly. He frowned again.

"Im afraid I wouldn't be able to go into details. It is all wrapped tight in confidentiality laws," he stated firmly. I was too tired to argue anyway. It wasn't like we were friends, or that I would ever see him again after tonight.

I felt an odd twang in my chest as I realised this was our first and last meeting. I wasn't that dull-boy-obsessed-straight-out-of-high-school-ditsy-blonde type and knew that I was purely miserable that I found someone as interesting as Cobb and he was going to slip away so quickly.

"So I was wondering," I began uncertainly. This was uncharted waters I was sailing here. "After tonight, maybe we should hang out. You know, grab a coffee or something?"

The frown disappeared again and was replaced a by a gentle smile. "I would love that."

I nodded my head to myself in accomplishment and walked back out to the main room, dumping the old sheets on the couch. May as well use them one more night rather than dirty two sets of sheets.

"You can't sleep on the couch," Cobb said as he once again followed me in to the main room.

"Sorry, but did you think I was doing when I changed the sheets in my room? Creating a shrine?" I shook my head at my own hilarity. No one else found me funny but I thought I was genius. Not that I would tell anyone that.

Surprisingly he chuckled behind me and from the corner of my eye, I watched as he walked over to the window. Gripping one of the bars, he pushed the glass frame outwards and let a cool breeze sift through.

Despite the freezing temperatures out side, the wind felt nice against my fire heated skin. I hadn't noticed but a thin sheen of sweat had gathered at the base of my neck.

Leaving the window open he walked over to me and placed his hand on my shoulder, gripping it lightly before walking towards my room. I sighed as I watched his retreating back. He had to be no more than 26, maybe 27, and he was married? With a baby on the way?

Life was just plain cruel sometimes.

I slipped under the covers of my make shift bed on the couch and closed my eyes. Sleep would come and I had a feeling I would dream of a certain blonde haired stranger and the death of an unknown woman. Not that I was dramatic or anything.

I lied there. I listened to the crickets. Okay, I imagined the crickets but that generally happens in movies when it gets too quiet. I tried counting sheep but all I could picture was Sean the sheep. Then I couldn't stop laughing. Then I remembered I had a guest.

So I paced. I did jumping jacks. I balanced on my head. While leaning against a wall, of course.

In short I just. Couldn't. Sleep.

So I lied on the floor, in the middle of the room, on my stomach. My face was planted firmly on the ground and I could smell the old polished concrete through the rug.

I can't accurately tell you how long I was lying there but soon enough I heard morning noises. You know, the birds waking up, people walking around their apartments, my jug boiling, my loft creaking…

Why was my kettle boiling?

"Morning," came a cheerful voice from where I believe my dining table was positioned. Either I was supremely sleep deprived, lonely to a degree of psychosis where I was hallucinating and imagining inanimate objects talking or both. Probably both.

"Morning," I responded back carefully. This was getting weirder.

"So, I will be out of your in a moment. Just need the morning coffee," the voice sounded smiley. I like smiley. "You don't mind right?"

I rolled onto my back but turned my head to the table. There sat none other than Mr Hot and Handsome.

I shrugged in response to his question. Why did I care if he drank my coffee? Ignoring his presence once more, for my own mental stability if not his own fidelity status, I rolled over and stood up. Zoning out of the world around me I proceeded towards my room to shower and change. I wasn't really concerned if he was here or not. I would not let him interrupt my daily routine any more than he already had.

That's right. I had a daily routine. It basically consisted of not having a daily routine and then rushing around like crazy because I was running late. But seeming as it happened every day I thought it was pretty safe to call it a daily routine.

I continued to ponder this as I washed my hair, forgetting all about the stranger in my house. I became so lost in my own head that after the first shampoo I was singing good old Solomon Bourke and dirty dancing.

"When your baby,-" bang, bang, bang "- leaves you all alone-" bang, bang "-and nobody, calls you on the phone-" bang-bang, bang, bang "-don't you feel like crying? Don't you feel like crying?"

Suddenly the door burst open and the shower curtain fell down.

"Arghhhh!"

"Oh! Sorry, sorry!" Cobb yelled as he covered his eyes and looked away blindly. If I was not mistaken he totally took a peek before he looked away.

I hastily picked up the shower curtain from the floor, bar and all, and tried to wrap it around myself. Failing, I just held it up in front of me and prayed for the best.

"Yeah, im covered now," I growled out as I flushed with embarrassment and tried to avoid his eyes as he looked at me once again. I noticed a light blush on his cheeks as well. This made me feel mildly better.

"Someone was at the door," he spoke clear and confidently, considering what had happened only moments ago. "He was asking for you."

That did it. My memory decided to kick into gear and a picture of one of my few friends at the uni filled my mind. "Dammit, Mika!"

Cobb frowned once again but made no move to leave. I raised an eyebrow at him and he just smirked before walking out of my bathroom. Shaking my head I stepped out and grabbed my towel.

As I dried myself off and got dressed, my mind wandered back to his wife. I tried to picture the woman in my mind. All I could come up with was a blonde haired, petite beauty.

Then I realised I had pictured a pretty version of myself. The thought was laughable. So that's what I did. I walked into the main room and towards my kitchen, laughing like a crazy cat.

It was only after I had poured my coffee and sat at the table that I noticed the resettling silence.

I was alone again.

Looking at the other end of the table there was a sheet of paper I didn't remember ever putting there. After closer inspection, I let a smile crack my confused expression and another laugh bubble up my throat.

He left his name, number, address and the time and place of the booking at a small café down the street. Seems I would be meeting this stranger once again. Maybe this time I would figure him out.

**So, first published fic on this site :) I am just going to go ahead and put the disclaimer for the entire story here: I do not own the wonderful multiple worlds or layers of Inception but I do own any characters or plots you do not recognise. So there we have it, review and let me know what you think, ideas, constructive criticism or if you just want to have a chat ;) Until next time ~ Ali (or Confetti01, you know...)**


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

The professor wrapped up the lecture with praise to his favourite student before releasing the hall of students. Ariadne certainly was the favourite, but then again, her structures were definitely a level above everybody else's.

"Miss Rosings," the professor called as I was making my way to leave. My first reaction was to decide between fight or flight. My sensible side screamed at me to turn around, smile politely and enquire after what the professor needed. The other side of me, the part that filled up the non rational and non sensible parts was, other than going into cardiac arrest, attempting to pry my limbs from their current state of frozenness and into flee mode.

That is why I was stuck in frozone. The zone where I was frozen. Pretty nifty name, I thought.

Unlucky for me, the sensible side won out and I turned slowly to face the professor. The other part was definitely putting up one hell of a fight, the polite smile was more of a grimace and the polite enquiry was closer to a caveman than young lady.

Miles, as he insisted I called him, signalled me down to the front of the room. He reclined back in his desk chair and I just stood awkwardly in front of him, twiddling my thumbs no less.

"I was just wondering as to why you are not taking this class as a major," he began in a genuinely curious tone. "Your sketches are as good as Miss Bishop's and you would definitely excel in this course."

Miss Bishop? Who the hell was Miss Bishop?

"Ariadne," he pressed. Didn't realise I was such an open book. Or such a bad friend…

"Well, you see, i…" the thing is I didn't really have an interest in becoming an actual architect. Whenever I drew my sketches, I drew a design on a model and then filled in the environment around them. As hard as it was to believe I was doing fashion as a major and architecture just seemed like a good minor cause I used it in all my sketches. I still couldn't believe they allowed me to do such opposite subjects.

"If I may be frank, the way you draw the paradoxes, and how every structure is a maze within a maze," he paused shaking his head in a daze like fashion, "if you focused solely on those designs you would far surpass that of Ariadne."

I merely looked at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw. As good as or better than Ariadne? Was he going senile? I had looked at Ariadne's sketches before when she asked my opinion. Of course I looked at her like she was and idiot, slapped her across the face, told her to wake up and smell the ink pot and that her designs were so freaking good that if you added every single persons mark in the room together it still wouldn't come close to hers.

I know, I know, I said I was a loner right? Wrong. I said I was a preferred loner. People were still my 'friends' even if I saw them as acquaintances, but in honest truth Mika and Ariadne actually were my friends even though they were both almost finished their degrees and many years older than myself. Shocker, right? Funny though, they weren't friends with each other.

"Sir, if I may also be frank, I am interested in fashion design. Incase my sketches were a lot more subtle than I have ever been in my entire life, the main focus is on the person in the middle and what they are wearing, not the background," I muttered, struggling with whether to feel embarrassed, ashamed or insulted.

Nah, it felt more like being blunt. That was a normal feeling for me.

Before he could reply I pulled out my sketch pad. I handed it to him. The thing about my sketch pad was that at the front it had all my designs, with maze like back grounds of course, but about half way through it changed to photos of drawings I had done at home. They were the ones I wanted him to get to.

He finally got to the photos and the look in his eyes brightened tenfold. This time it was his jaw that went slack and his eyes that ere bulging out his eye sockets.

The sketches at home, some I had hanging up on the walls of my studio, a private room only I knew how to access, showed the middle panel displaying the model and design but the paradoxes and mazes which filled the back ground spread out for panel after panel after panel. One took up and entire wall and only the middle panel was the model.

Just as he was about to comment, the door slammed open and the sound of arguing and footsteps flittered down the stairs.

"I refuse to let you come!"

"Why? Because I am with child? That will not affect this! I will be asleep, goddamit! If anything does happen, it will not have any affect on me once I wake up," a female voice yelled indignantly in a lilting French accent.

The professor cleared his throat and the two suddenly noticed they had company in the form of me. I smiled awkwardly before grabbing my sketches and attempting a run for it.

It was the Cobb stranger and this was obviously his wife. She was nothing like I imagined and yet so much more than I could have dreamed up. Of course, a man like him would only ever be with some one like her.

"You," he said in a confused, semi delighted voice. Before I could reply, a scathing voice cut across.

"Her? You know this," she paused as she thought about her words, "child?"

She raised a cruel eyebrow at me and I noticed a slight smirk pull at her cheeks as she watched me flounder in my social awkwardness. I was a pretty confident person, dont get me wrong, but when up against that level of self assurance? I had no chance.

"Mal, don't be so intolerable," the professor cut across. Thank god he did, the tension was almost suffocating me. "This is my top student, Miss Evan Rosings."

I saw a light spark in Cobb's eyes that hadn't been there before but let it slide. After all, he was now holding the hand of his wife. Fair explanation in my opinion.

I still hated her and that word, though. _Wife_. Ew.

"Nice to meet you," I heard myself go onto auto pilot for the mundane meet and greet I had become accustomed to. This Mal girl showed no signs of acceptance though as she sniffed delicately and looked back to the professor.

Making sure she made it obvious to me that it was her holding Cobb's hand, to which I just raised my eyebrows and smirked, she walked down the remaining stairs and she planted a small kiss on the professor's cheek.

I tipped my head in confusion. "That is her father," a voice whispered in my ear, making me jump sky high. I saw Cobb standing in front of me, not that I had noticed his appearance, and took a step backwards. With a pregnant, hormone raging woman with a bloke like this for a husband in the room, I was going to be extra careful.

We both realised at the same time that in our whole extremely minute acquaintance I had constantly been stepping away from him for one reason or another.

"That's lovely," I replied uncomfortably before once again picking up my things and heading towards the doors. "Oh and Saturday doesn't work for me," I whispered back as I remember I was going to call him that night.

My Uncle had called me just before I went into the lecture to let me know he was remarrying and that the bird wanted to be wed in Paris. Lucky me, I get to meet another fembot Barbie.

Rolling my eyes at the mental image I turned and kept walking up the stairs.

"Saturday? Dom, what is she talking about?" Mal's suspicious voice rang clear and seemed to echo around the room for longer than necessary. We all turned to face Cobb whose cheeks were tinged pink and was totally floundering. Being the compassionate person I am, insert doubtful eye brow raising, I was gonna help out a comrade in need.

"Uh, he just mentioned that the weather this Saturday was meant to be warmer than usual and I told him that Saturdays don't work for me," I improvised. "They never have, I always seem to get bad new on Saturdays."

This wasn't entirely false. It seemed that for the last month or so, every single piece of bad news I had received, I found out on a Saturday. It might have had something to with the fact I only ever check my PO Box on Saturdays and that I only got messages and calls on Saturdays as it was the only time that worked for everyone else I knew who weren't in France.

I still wasn't going to blame it all on coincidence.

"Well," tutted Mal in a dismissive tone that clearly said she wasn't buying it and from the look on Cobb's face, we both knew he was going to cop it later on. I couldn't help but snicker at his expression.

Before anyone else could comment or delay me any longer I sprinted out of the lecture hall, luckily not dropping any of my belongings. I didn't have any more classes that day and I didn't feel like going home. The whole creepy alone feeling was still hanging around like those damn fleas Mrs Magnolia seemed to disperse wherever she went.

After walking around a quaint park for an hour or so I decided that it was time to head home. Sure I had completed a couple of sketches, and spent most of the time people watching which was a total blast, but time had ticked by for long enough and I had dinner to prepare.

I made a stop on the way back at the little markets. Walking up to the fresh fruit and vegetables stand I was greeted by a warm hug and jolly smile. Mr and Mrs Obesca were Italian immigrants who spent their lives selling fresh produce in different parts of the world.

Their current fancy was Paris. The travelling love bugs assured me that they felt at home in Paris like they never had before and could not fathom losing contact with a friend such as me.

All this and I only ever bought a couple of potatoes and a pumpkin. Sure I had gone to their place for dinner a couple of times but, eh? Details, details.

"Evan! How are you, _bella_?" exclaimed Mrs Obesca with all the enthusiasm that a mother would have for her children.

"I am very well thankyou, Mrs O," I smiled back. I handed her the basket of vegetables and fruit I had already picked out and chatted to her about uni, and life, as her husband rung up the total.

"Here, we just got a fresh crop of strawberries and raspberries. On the house! And you must come for dinner this week, I'll make all your favourites. Ciao, Evan!"

I laughed as I waved back and headed home. "It sounds _perfecto_. Ciao, Mrs O!"

I reached my apartment and fumbled for my keys. I can assure you, holding shopping bags and trying to find a key is not as easy as it looks in the cinemas. In fact, nothing in life is as easy as it looks in the cinemas. Hell, life is not as easy as the cinemas.

Woe is me.

So I gave up and dropped my keys on the ground and settled down next to them, my back leaning against the door. Maybe they would sort themselves out and then I would consider forgiving them.

As I was waiting for said apology, and trying strongly to ignore the fact that I was mentally awaiting an apology from a set of keys, I failed to notice a hand picking them up and unlocking the door for me. I surely did realise as soon as the door swung open and I fell backwards with it.

"Oof!"

"Should I be concerned that you sit outside your apartment?"

"Should I be concerned that _you_ are _at_ my apartment? _Again_?"

"Touché."

Instead of standing up and thanking him like a normal person, I rolled onto my stomach and crawled through the door, also leaving behind all the shopping bags for him to carry.

Serves him right for being at my apartment, again, with no explanation as of yet.

I got half way towards my favourite arm chair before I got too tired and gave up. Lying on the floor, in almost the same position Cobb had found me in that morning, I rolled over to look at him. He was just finishing placing the shopping bags on the counter.

Catching his eye, I waited for an explanation. If he was going to just let himself into my apartment, regardless of whether I was right there or not, then I did not feel I had to start the questioning. Rather he should begin the detailed explanation before I reach a common verdict. Or whatever they do in court.

"Me and Mal had another argument," he stated in a rough voice. Ah. That explained his presence in my home. "I was wondering if you would mind putting me up for another night."

I looked at his face, properly this time. It seemed the sort of situation that required Mature Evan, not Normal Immature Crazy Weird Evan. I could do that. For short periods of time.

I could see stress lines forming near his eyes and forehead. I certainly had some cream for that. The fire I had seen burning in those shocking blue eyes was now subdued into a low burning ember, a shadow of what it had been at the uni.

As much as it saddened me, it also made me rejoice that a husband could have that much passion for their counterpart. It wasn't like I could say the same for my Uncle. He married who ever took his fancy, always had a pre-nup to protect his fortunes, but could never remain committed.

Sure he tried, but it was more or less the slag he called wife that would stray and break his heart. He may have married a lot, but he would never do it with out love or the heavenly promise of it.

Coming back to the present I saw that Cobb was still waiting for my answer. I wasn't sure how much time had passed but the look on his face assured me that I had definitely taken my time. He looked rather nervous and I could see a slight sheen on his forehead.

"Of course you can," I said quietly. I don't know how it happened but the previously light atmosphere had turned almost gloomy. I could see how much the argument had taken a toll on him and I couldn't help but feel subdued.

I got off the floor quietly and headed to the bathroom to shower and change into my pyjamas. Before I left the room though I looked over my shoulder. He was staring at me but too far away for me to interpret the look correctly. I was perfectly happy assuming that he was just lost in thought and that he just happened to be looking in this direction.

"So, make yourself at home. Cook some dinner and whatnot," I informed him in a rather clinical tone. "Oh, and im heading to the shower now so, don't come in."

I smirked to soften the barb and the returning smile was enough to make my knees shake and want to give out. Quickly, I turned around to prevent any weird, unexplainable bodily reactions, such as passing out, that would just make things awkward.

I kept the shower quick and wasted no time in getting into my most comfortable pyjamas. The weather had taken quite a turn for the sour, more so than normal miserable days, and definitely called for the warmest and woolliest pair I owned. Keeping to true Evan style, they also happened to be my favourites and probably the most embarrassing.

Pulling on a thick knit sweater, I headed out to the main room and followed my nose to the table where two places were set and candles illuminated the space between.

Placing a bowl on each plate, Cobb looked up at my confused expression and laughed heartily. The sound was actually kinda nice and I felt my knees tense in anticipation of the urge to turn into a puddle of gloop.

I must have been eyeing the candles to frequently as I got myself seated as I had taken no more than the first spoonful of chicken and leak soup that he commented.

"were the candles too much?" the dim light made it hard to distinguish but that damned blush was back on his cheeks and I was putting all my concentration on eating to prevent a very awkward wrestling match. One that would of course consist of me leaping over the table in a flurry and jumping his bones.

"Um," was al I could get out as I tried to ignore the images permeating my brain.

_Go away, go away go away!_

"I just wanted to say thankyou," he continued, noticing my lack of attention. "I mean, you put a total stranger up for two nights in a row? That's pretty gracious."

Ha! If only he knew the thoughts that lead me to allowing this to happen. Especially since I didn't allow strangers past the threshold. They barely got that far half the time. And now was not the time to make things awkward. Apparently my brain filter was malfunction, though.

"Trust me, when the stranger looks like you I can be plenty gracious."

Too late.

I felt my body freeze and my eyes bulge as all coherent thought dissolved in a heartbeat.

_Why do I have to be me? Why, why, why, why?_

The blush in his cheeks flared once again and, oddly enough, mine made its own rare appearance. The stark contrast between us became, once more, strikingly apparent. Although he had frozen mid bite, the spoon was half way towards his mouth and nothing was dripping or anything. It was as if everything around him had also frozen.

For me, well, let's just say that I looked rather similar to a troll. The spoon was tipped towards my mouth and the entire contents was dribbling out of my mouth and down my chin, making a nice little pool on the table in front of my bowl.

Before I could even _try_ to diffuse the situation he did what I least expected. He got up, walked around to my side of the table and kissed my forehead. What. A. joke.

I had been prepared for him to just get up and leave. I had been prepared for laughing or even an argument. Hell, I was prepared for a full on snog.

Not a bloody kiss on my frown lines. Gosh.

He cupped my face and looked into my eyes. I thought it was too awkward so I looked at his nose, slowly going unintentionally cross eyed. This time he laughed and I felt butterflies flit around my stomach lining. Quite uncomfortable, but definitely in a good way.

"You don't understand how much I want to kiss you right now," he whispered while he looked at my lips with a small smile on his face.

"And here I thought I was the on making things awkward," I replied just as quietly, although I was looking at his eyes.

He leaned his chin atop my head. I know that in movies or books or even for other people it was probably awfully romantic but for me, well, I guess you could say im not even similar to other people. Being the awkward moron that I am I just sat there, twiddling my thumbs no less.

It was definitely a nervous habit of mine.

As quickly as I decided it was harmless to lean into the gesture, I remember a wee complication.

_Wife._

The word spun around my head like damn cotton candy and was just as sticky.

If I allowed this to go further than a friendly kiss on the forehead that only _alluded_ to romantic feelings, then it would become romantic involvement and I would be the _other woman._

I wanted to cry.

I jumped out of his embrace, or whatever it was, his forehead molesting, and skittered back a few steps. Apparently he also realised his mistake and after a stoic, clinical, and kinda formal apology, he headed into my room and closed the door.

Foregoing the couch, I grabbed a blanket and settled into the faded green armchair. The leather was comforting and felt like home, it meant stability. I may have almost screwed up royally but at least I could make things go back to normal.

Or as normal as I would ever be. Especially with a handsome married stranger in my bed.

**So this was a very quick update. Very, very, very superly extremely speedy and more than likely only going to happen very far and few times, but nice all the same :) I will continue writing but I would love to get some reviews, I have no idea where to go with this story- thats a lie, i have a pretty good general idea but any ideas, names, comments, criticism, anything at all that you want to tell me? just leave a review and i will reply to ALL so yeah... hope you enjoyed!**


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

~ FIVE YEARS LATER ~

The door slammed shut as the second last person left the now almost abandoned hall. Ariadne had offered to wait for me but I refused to hold her up when she had important things to do.

Sure, she would never go in to great depth of what it was she was doing but assured me frequently that it was important enough. So, who was I but to believe her?

"Miss Rosings."

Turning around instantly, I found myself smiling and politely enquiring after what the professor needed of me. Flashbacks of a time years ago where i was trying my hardest not to flee filled my mind and I fought to stop my smile from becoming a full blown smirk.

"I must say I am very impressed with your work this semester," he informed me almost indulgently. Miles had treated me like a second daughter since the incident where I first met his real daughter Mal.

"Thankyou," I replied in mock serenity. In the back of my mind, a box rattled and shook, waiting to burst open and flood me with thoughts I had been suppressing for far too long.

"I must say that I am concerned though," his smile slowly slipped from his face and mine seemed to mimic his action. "For reasons I feel would do more harm than be beneficial if I informed you of them, I am sending you on a job."

As if I didn't know his reasons. I thought about them every single day.

"Like work experience?" we had been encouraged to try and find firms that were willing to take on students for a couple of weeks to give us an insight into the industry and get a little ground practice. It was not mandatory although strongly advised.

Even though I had changed quite drastically over the years, I still hadn't lost my passion for the fashion industry. Instead of working at an architectural firm I submitted drawings to a fashion house, and after reviewing my grades and designs I was able to watch how they operated and talk to major designers about their inspirations and work practices.

"Well, I guess you could call it that. Though this time it is architecture based," he said sternly. I could tell it was just his concern that was causing him to be so hard but it was still a shock to the system.

Rather than go in to details like I expected, he handed me a slip of paper with an address on it. I looked at him confused but he just shooed me out of the hall.

As my feet rhythmically hit the concrete, I could feel my heart rate increase drastically and it wasn't from the exercise. I had recognised the address instantly. It was the old abandoned warehouse that had closed after it went bankrupt and was sold off but never reopened again.

I felt chills as I realised that there was no other living thing in sight. Not even a damned tree. I felt some of my old fire flare slightly but died quickly as memories from before crashed into my head like a tsunami. Now was not the time to dwell on the past.

Taking each step not only one at a time but at the speed of a snail, I finally reached the floor that was stated on the paper. The chills were coming harder and faster than earlier and I began to wander if Miles had sent me here to be assassinated or some other crazy thing that generally happened in abandoned warehouses.

More fire, more memories.

Rather than just barging in like I would have no so long ago, I knocked three times. Loud, sharp and clear. That's how I preferred things these days, precise and honest, clear intentions. It was the only way I could go through life.

The door opened to show a thin, intelligent looking man with an honest air surrounding him. I liked him instantly. He just looked at me and I realised he was waiting for me to state my business or whatever.

"Um, Miles sent me…" I trailed off after seeing a look of comprehension cross his face so quickly I almost felt whip lash.

"Of course, your Adriane's friend, aren't you? My name is Arthur," he smiled broadly as he ushered me through the steel door and then lead me to where a group of men were gathered around a small scale model of an intricate maze.

"Everybody, Miles sent us another one," he shouted jovially, making the group jump in surprise. "She is a friend of Ariadne's, too."

"Darling, next time you feel the need to shout, don't sneak up on us before hand," drawled a charming English accent. No matter how charming the voice was, however, I was frozen by the face of none other than Dominic Cobb.

He sat as still as I stood. Our eyes locked and I knew I wasn't going to dare move first. Or blink. I would _so_ win.

I suddenly recoiled as I realised just how easily I could slip back into my old self when he was around. I hadn't seen the bloke after the second night at my loft. Sure we had agreed to keep in touch, and we tried, but it was only ever emails and the like until even that became scarce. Too soon it became nothing at all.

By that stage, the contact was so far and few that the gradual stop didn't make any impact on my life other than occasionally wondering where he might be, what he was doing, what his child looked like or if he now had more than one.

Tears almost sprang to my eyes as I thought about children. Swallowing back all emotion I took a deep breath and looked away, smiling at each individual in the small gathering.

From the looks they were subtly sharing with each other they had noticed the tension between me and Cobb. "Um, Arthur, Im gonna call you Artie from now on. And Artie?"

He looked amused but indulged me none the less. "Yes?"

"Thanks but goodbye," I rushed out before just as quickly leaving the room. I wasted no time in getting the hell out of there and ran to the first place that seemed somewhat safe. Surprisingly, I ended up at the local park near my loft.

It was by a river that ran through the city and was filled with plush grass and a playground. I had so many memories there and it seemed so masochistic that I would still consider it to be a safe place no matter how much pain it brought.

I leaned against a railing over looking the water. My reflection looked terrible. More terrible than reflections on water usually looked. Despite being hideously distorted, my skin looked a waxy white, my blonde hair was tied up but still managed to look limp, my eyes were sunken and where dull and red.

I looked tired. So, so tired.

"Evan?" a hand rested against my shoulder and as much as I wanted to fight it and act like everything was hunky dory, I just couldn't bring myself to care. I didn't move a muscle. I just kept breathing slowly and blinking. Normal body stuff, basically.

"Cobb."

"What happened to you?" his voice was a mixture of shock, pain and most of all, and most confusingly, guilt. He sounded so damn guilty. I had no freaking clue why.

"Thanks so much, you're looking really well too! How are the kids?" it sounded as sharp as a knife but I didn't care enough to actually look back and see the effect my words had on him.

"I don't know, I haven't seen them in over a year." This time I did turn around. His words were hard and bitter and I almost wanted to comfort him. My curiosity won out, though.

"Why? And what are their names?"

His jaw tightened and I could see him grinding his teeth together but I just kept staring at him until he relented. Which he did with a heaving sigh.

"James and Phillipa. James is three and Phillipa is five."

He stopped and looked out at the water behind me. I nodded my head slowly.

"Hows Mal?" as much as I still wasn't fond of the woman, it seemed only polite to enquire after his own family. The years and events had turned me into such a pansy.

"She's dead."

My head whipped around faster than a budgie smuggler wearing Speedos. She was dead? Mal was dead?

"What no apologies? Anyone who knew her even the slightest has had something to say," he spat scathingly. I felt my hackles rise. Well, they would have if I had hackles.

"You're an arsehole," I deadpanned before spinning on my heel and heading back home.

Before I could even try and prevent it, the flood gates burst and every single memory I had of Gerard came crashing down on me. I didn't care who saw me stumble and ignored the concerned looks from strangers on the street as tears poured down my makeupless face.

I could hear footsteps behind me, each two of mine equalling one of theirs. A light sensation pulled at my heartstrings as I knew it was Cobb. I could just tell, which worried me more than comforted me. Why was I so taken with him when I barely knew him?

Reaching my door I tried my hardest to just get the key in and away from questions I had no intention of answering but surely enough, the keys jingled tauntingly and I gave up. I petulantly threw them to the ground and sat down, leaning against my door.

"Deja vu," he muttered as he picked up the keys and opened the door. Of course I was still being petulant and ignoring him. Which obviously means I missed him opening the door and once again tumbled backwards as it opened.

This time I stood up and made my way to my room where I changed into sweats and a bed socks. I left my button up shirt on but wrapped a scarf around my neck. At least I could hide my face in it if he annoyed me too much.

I walked back into the main room and sat at the table, where he had placed a cup of tea for me. He stood tall, observing the place while sipping contemplatingly on his own cup. I, too, looked around and for the first time, acknowledged the changes.

The table had changed from small and circular to long and rectangular. Even though my favourite arm chair was still in place, the couches were now a dark, rich black leather. The fire had a grill to cover the flames from prying hands and the walls were a crisp, durable white, easy to clean.

"Childproofed," I whispered to myself. It was as if the last year of my life was mapped out through the simple, gradual changes of décor in the apartment. Coincidence that it was also the year I thought about Cobb and his growing family?

The sharp corners were up high or eliminated, there was now a television hung low on the wall, out of reach toddlers and yet still comfortable when sitting on the couch. There were no rugs in the open planned loft any more, only in my private studio.

All of my sketches, which used to line the floors and walls now resided in a trunk at the foot of our- my bed. The bed was even a king size, with neutral coverings and chiffon hanging from the four poster canopy. Mahogany furniture lined the walls, filled with all the things that used to lie about and made this place feel like home.

The things that now made this place, this almost unrecognisable loft, feel like home…

I could feel Cobb's eyes on me as I looked around as if for the first time. Where as it once would have made me shiver in delight- okay, way to many romance novels during my frequent pity parties. It would have made me twitch unattractively or say something seriously stupid.

I stood up abruptly, placing my tea down on the table, and headed for my studio. I needed time to absorb everything I was confronting, which apparently was a lot. I stopped just as abruptly as I began as I came to passing the only door on the right.

I swallowed deeply and let my fingers graze the door knob. A large hand encompassed mine and slowly, together, we opened the door. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as the smell of talcum powder and lavender permeated the stale air.

Static electricity seemed to be passing between our still conjoined hands. This time I did shiver but it was in disgust. Disgust for myself. How could I stand on the threshold of this room, lusting after a man I barely knew?

I felt Cobb release my hand and step into the room. My eyes snapped open and followed his every move as he walked around the empty room. As he reached the opposite side he leaned forward, gazing at the spectacular view of the city. The light streamed into the illuminate white room.

The white gauze and lace curtains fluttered about in the breeze and parted around him almost majestically. I mentally slapped myself at using such stupid words and couldn't help but laugh slightly at the image of Cobb dressed up as a medieval king.

"What's so funny?" he asked with a small smile. I smiled back but the harsh reality of where we were standing belatedly kicked in and pulled the frown back in place.

"Out. Now. You have no right to be in here," I whispered the last part as my throat choked up once again. He would be horrified to know the back story of this room. I was too embarrassed to admit it, as well.

He left the room almost immediately and I didn't hesitate to pull the door shut as quickly as possible, taking care not to slam the door as if a precious occupant was still there.

"Evan, what happened?" he spoke quietly, whether to avoid disturbing the silence that had fallen over the apartment or not to frighten me I can't say.

I looked him in the eyes, silently pleading for him to drop it. It seemed as if the stronger the telepathic vibes I sent to him to just piss off the more defiant he looked.

He took my hand, rather forcefully I must say, and lead me to the couch. As soon as he sat down I stood up and moved to my arm chair, the one thing that hadn't changed.

"Mal killed herself a year ago," he said quietly. "It was my fault, though."

My eyes were surely bulging out of my eye sockets like a gecko but otherwise I gave no visible reaction. The way she went had surely shocked me, though. She had two beautiful children with a godlike vision of a man and she decided to cut the thread?

"The only way I can explain what happened is by explaining what the job I am offering you entails and the specifics of it. I am hoping that in return you will tell me what happened?"

I was so tempted to out right say no, tell him to mind his own business and kick him to the curb. But how could I resist knowing the story of how his life turned to ruins as almost unrecognisable as my own? So I agreed.

"Basically, what we do is use dreams to access people subconscious," he started. I was already convinced that he had added weed to the tea leaves. "I am the extractor and I have direct contact with the subject in a dream. There is also Arthur. He is my second in charge, the point man. He knows paradoxes like he knows his mother. His job is mainly just making sure everything runs smoothly. He is good with numbers and such, as well."

"And the English bloke turns into who ever he wants to make the entire thing easier for you, right?" I deadpanned, mentally listing names of health clinics and help lines I could recommend after his trip was over.

"Yes, how did you know?" I raised an eyebrow at him. He frowned lightly as he realised I had been kidding. "Well, there is also Yusuf. He is the chemist and he creates compounds that will keep a person asleep for a certain amount of time while factoring in what senses still need to be maintained and which to be dulled to an ineffectual state."

"So I will just go with you on this, just to see how it all ties together but I think that afterwards you should drink some water and have a nap," I suggested slowly.

"I am not insane Evan," he snapped. I glared back.

"Sure you're not, Cobb."

"Dom."

What?

"What?" I used to have a habit of always repeating what my mind said before I met Gerard. He used to think it was adorable. No he was not a mind reader but I told him about what went on it my head and after that he could always tell when I was just repeating things out loud.

"Call me Dom."

"No."

"Yes. I call you Evan, and friends don't refer to each other by their last names," he sounded rather ticked off. So he knew how I was feeling, eh?

"No. we are not friends. I knew you for two nights a couple of years ago. I don't know how old you are. I do not know your favourite colour or your middle name, or how many boys you have snogged-" he raised his eyebrow "-okay, girl's in your case," I amended. "I don't know anything about you that I know about the others I have called friends."

He kept breathing evenly with an equally as relaxed expression on his face.

"Thirty five. Blue. Don't have a middle name. Never snogged any boys, too many girls to remember. You?"

"Twenty three. Green. Knox. Too many to count. A couple."

"You look younger than twenty three. And you have made out with girl's?" his eyes were a little wider than usual and seem to have the same twinkle and fire in them that I remembered.

"So do you, handsome. And you have, too."

"Touché."


End file.
